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Best Poems Written by Florian Beauchamp

Below are the all-time best Florian Beauchamp poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

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Mombasa

Strange shadows on these coral walls
stay hidden from the setting sun, 
yet creeping through the shafts of amber light
drag behind them to the high parapet
a cloak of utter darkness.

Fierce defended, now are none:
no frightened men to urge the heavy cannon round
no shrill alarm or battle cries;
the end of this, as every other day has sealed
a silence now complete.

Once we held here, on this foreign shore, 
the fortress of our childhood dreams
and all the world’s assaults
seemed nothing then;
an ocean  breeze would cool the hurt of falling
and bring sweet scents to pick us up again.

Across the bay the dhows set sail upon a rising tide
their canvass spread against the purple sky.
We watched their leaving long ago
but you are gone away now, gone to  sleep
and no injured soul so left alone
can wait to watch them home again.

Yet I will stand, a little or a while, 
and  will not fear cold shadows rising 
nor while breathing yield the fort to them;
in every breach I meet your laughing eyes
and feel the warming of remembered suns.

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Oyster Bay

At five thirty a baby boy, washed of blood
coddled in cotton, the soft pink hope
of a mother set to desert him for death.

but not now, not in the first breath,
not in this salt scented air
inhaled by raw lungs, expelled in screams,
louder than the flash gulls
and the cries of the crab sellers.

there, there, be calm, kuma shwari

be calm in the bay by the tamed waters
nuzzling the coral sand,
nibbling the breast of the plump earth;
be calm as the sun goes down to the first night
on a world still waiting for meaning.

see now, the moon rises, 
the first gift of this and every night
distant, implacable
drawing the restless sea;
exposed in the white light the oysters shine;
in some are hidden
pearls of beauty and distress.

your hope is my hope; your pain, my pain

kuma shwari

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Cold Stone Floor

Round the point 
a ship is sailing
her lost love against
the railing, waving
calling out her name
and yet the wind
blows on the same
blowing seaward
ever onward
ever leaving
just a flicker
of a wavering
dying flame

Ah, sweet friend
this day must end
but none can ever
really mend
what is broken 
in your heart
a simple thing
his simple token
simple words
yet barely spoken
now blow against
the broken door
and lie in fragments
sharp and shining
shining on 
the cold stone floor.

Details | Florian Beauchamp Poem

Wreck

Those that were and went before
are waiting, wailing by the shore;
amid the rope and shattered timbers
all that mattered lies in tatters,
all that mattered is no more.

One foot behind, one step ahead,
the small shrill voices in his head
as wind across a lifeless reach
still pull him to the rocky beach
where all is seeming in his dreaming
all is seeming ever lost.

Beyond the reach of human speech
he stumbles down the storm swept beach
and strikes the waves that block his way
but they in turn, round back on him;
they do not pause and will not stay
but take him in a fierce embrace.

Soon all is done and all is calm
for mercy folds his flailing arms
and lowers to a gentle bed 
below the fury overhead;
and in that silence, in that place
of perfect love and endless grace,
father, son, float face to face.

Details | Florian Beauchamp Poem

These Words

These words
that trickle
down 
the 
screen 
could not care 
where they
have been
what role
they played
in  
famous verse
a speech
a curse
or something worse
it matters not 
to words 
like these
if they offend
or cheer
or please 
they do not 
mourn 
a love betrayed
or wish a friend
who’s gone had stayed
nor on their 
progress
to the bottom
care one wit
if
they’re forgotten
but rather
like
the drops of rain
that slide
across
a window pane
avoid 
the fate
of
being part
of some dull poet’s
heartfelt fart
leaving 
on 
the 
dirty glass
ghostly symbols
as they pass.

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No Road Returns

No road returns
but turns instead
around the words
you should have said
and leads at last
to this damp bed
where half-lights
flicker in your head
and all around
the books you’ve read
can’t tell you why
the white swan bled
and tore itself
to pieces overhead
while you, in doubt,
read on instead.

The strangest sights
the strangest sounds
now reach the earth
from underground
your place betrayed
your hiding found
your heart is measured
pound for pound.

And all those words
you never said
must heavy weigh
your heart like lead
and burdened so
in your sick bed
must leave the light
to join the dead.

Details | Florian Beauchamp Poem

Under the Sun

Nothing new and nothing old
flows from the palette Time,
no colours stuck or icy cold
can mask the blood and grime

Here a dab, a tinge of hate
a shade of envy and deceit
last runners, now a little late,
stand puzzled in the street

another portrait lies beneath
the dried and broken crust
other mothers lay a wreath
for sons they could not trust

Galleries of make believe
hang landscapes brushed by fear
who must cheer and who must grieve
to make the madness clear.